


The Bet

by speedgriffon



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Action, Comedy, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-18 02:18:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3552335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/speedgriffon/pseuds/speedgriffon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr prompt fill- A question: who, out of the three heroes, is the better rogue?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bet

“Is any of this really necessary?” Cullen asked from his position outside the fence. Isabella and King Alistair stood with him, their expressions a little more excited than the commander’s.

It had started with friendly conversation in the tavern; the war was over, and Skyhold found its walls filled with familiar faces. Garrett Hawke had returned from his travels, his pirate love in tow, the two looking to relax and have fun with Varric. The arrival of nobles brought King Alistair, his joy abundant since the return of his wife, the Hero of Fereldan. With so many heroes of the land gathered in one place, it wasn’t surprising that people started talking, comparing the three and their conquests. It didn’t take long for a bet to be offered; who was the best rogue? Before night fell, Varric’s table held a large pool of money with nearly all of Skyhold betting on who would win in a match of skills. The next morning, the heroes found themselves in the training field, several targets set up at various distances. A crowd had already gathered, eager to see what would transpire.

“You’re the ones who got us into this mess.” Aurelie grumbled in reply, and Cullen looked away with a sheepish expression. In no way did the heroes encourage this—well expect for maybe Garrett.

“ _Mess_? This is such a typical Tuesday for me, right Varric? Isabella?” Hawke laughed, nudging the two women next to him. Queen Evelyn politely smiled at him as he winked.

“Careful darling.” Isabella called from the sidelines. “While I love your cocky attitude, it tends to be your downfall!”

“You love  _what_  about my co-”

“As much as I’d like to hear you finish that sentence,” Varric interrupted from his makeshift stage. “Let’s get this show started!”

“First, let me introduce our carefully selected, totally  _unbiased_  panel of judges.” He acknowledged the table that had been set up next to him. Sitting there was Josephine and Leliana and a man nobody seemed to recognize. “Well, I tried to find impartial parties… but that’s hard when  _everybody seems to know everybody_.” He grumbled.

“Then who is that?” Alistair asked. Varric shrugged.

“He volunteered.” He shook his head before turning towards the three that stood in the field. All were in light scouting gear, armed and ready for whatever was to come. “There will be three rounds: first, dagger tosses, second, bow and arrow targets. Finally, specialization testing; which one of you can make the biggest explosion with selected ingredients?”

“Sounds fun.” Hawke grinned. Aurelie and Evelyn shot each other sympathetic glances. “The prize?” The man continued.

“Right.” Varric mentioned. “For the heroes who have everything, more or less, this is all about  _pride_.”

“And bragging rights.” Isabella added. Varric flashed her a smile.

“Now, let us meet our contestants.” Varric certainly knew how to put on a show. “First, our Lady and Mistress Inquisitor, Aurelie Trevelyan.”

The crowd cheered, and Aurelie smiled, waving a little, especially when Cullen offered her a supportive grin. Varric continued, moving his hand to acknowledge the sole male rogue.

“Next,  _Chuckles_ , The Champion of Kirkwall—all around goofy bastard.”

Hawke paused from flexing his arms and showing off to mock a pout in Varric’s direction.

“ _Heeeyyy_.”

The dwarf only laughed as he continued. “Garrett Hawke, everybody!”

“And last, but certainly not least.” Varric was interrupted as King Alistair handed him some parchment. He eyed it for a moment before continuing. “This land’s lovely, beautiful, perfectly formed…” He glanced to Alistair, who was mouthing the words with him. “Oh _come on_ , did you write this?” He asked. Isabella laughed, holding onto the King for support. Evelyn only held a hand to her lips as she chuckled.

“Not… _all_  of it.” Alistair admitted. Varric rolled his eyes, looking at the parchment before continuing.

“Wife to Alistair Theirin, Hero of Fereldan, Warden-Commander of the Grey, Teyrna of Highever, Arlessa of Amaranthine and Vigil’s Keep; Queen Evelyn.”

“Show-off.” Hawke teased Evelyn, but she only raised a brow to him as she pulled her daggers from her belt.

“Shall we?” she asked.

Varric instructed the rogues to take their marks in front of the line of targets. While Hawke continued boasting of his skills, both women began lining up their throws, the metal of their blades between their fingers. Hawke followed suit, and on Varric’s count, they threw their weapons at the large wooden wall. Three  _thuds_  echoed out, and from afar, it looked as if all three had made their target. Varric, with the rogues in tow inspected the knives with careful eyes. While two came close, only one had crossed into the red bull’s-eye.

“We have a winner!” He gripped Aurelie’s hand, darting into the air as the crowd cheered. Hawke frowned and began to argue, taking the whole event far too seriously. Evelyn congratulated the Inquisitor, always polite. “Now, now, onto the next event!”

While the rogues took a moment to prepare their bows, Alistair chuckled under his breath.

“You know, they all are better at one thing.” He eyed Cullen. “While your Inquisitor may be skilled with knives,  _my wife_  is superior at archery.”

“And what makes you say that?” The commander argued. Isabella only sighed, shaking her head.

“Is this what we sound like? Hopeless lovers comparing each-other’s wives?”

“Don’t you mean husband, in your case?” Alistair asked. Isabella raised a curious brow.

“I think you know who wears the pants in this relationship.” She paused, to reflect on her outfit, and lack of mentioned pants. “ _Figuratively_.” She clarified.

One by one, arrows flew, and again, only one hit the target dead center.

“Is  _that_ proof enough?” Alistair clapped in approval as Evelyn grinned, her arrow’s placement making her the winner of the 2nd round.

Cullen looked at the man, a little concerned at how pleased he seemed. Isabella only sighed, before cupping her hands around her mouth to shout.

“Hawke, love, step it up- or else this booty is on lockdown!”

Aurelie couldn’t help but laugh out as Hawke frowned, but also as she noted the disgusted expression Cullen formed from where he was stuck. As Varric moved them to the table of herbs and oils, he had the rest of the crowd step back.

“I would like to remind everybody that we can not be held liable for any bodily harm, be it glass, or-” He was interrupted as Evelyn was the first to pitch a flask away from them, the explosion powerful, but modest in the middle of the field. “ _Fire_.”

Aurelie bounced her flask in her palm, eyeing the way Hawke’s eyes widened, expression turning manic. Almost afraid, she tossed hers in the same spot, the explosion bigger, but if only by a fraction.

“You might want to get down.” Hawke warned, pushing the two women behind him. Evelyn was about to argue when he chucked the flask high, the bottle landing, unbroken near the other two. Aurelie raised a brow, pursing her lips at his failure. He shook his head. “Wait for-”

All three were thrown back into a tiny pile as the flask suddenly exploded, a large fireball spurting into the air. Hawke sat up first, laughing as he felt Aurelie shove him before moving to help their Queen stand. When the dust settled, there was a large crater in the center of the courtyard, and it was obvious who had won.

“It seems we have a tie.” Varric explained. Before anybody could even argue, he pointed to the small obstacle course that led to the battlement stairs. “We move onto  _sudden death_.” It took a few moments for Varric to convince Isabella, Alistair and Cullen to the stairs, explaining all the while. “You must now navigate traps, and make your way to this ‘tower’ where you will save your loved one from certain doom.”

“Is this doom you?” Cullen muttered flatly. Aurelie had to hold back her laughter as they took their marks on the other side of the field. Varric shook his head in amusement before raising his hand high in the air.

“Alight! For the win, on my mark!” He paused. “Go!”

Hawke leapt ahead of Evelyn and Aurelie, darting past the barbs of wire and nearly invisible line traps. He had acceleration, but the two women were on his tail as they deftly dodged trip-wires and bear-traps. Surely, Varric had outdone himself. In record time, they reached the wall where their ‘captives’ stood along. Ropes had been thrown over to make climbing a little easier. Before the three could even start scaling the battlement wall, Isabella shouted down, freezing Hawke’s movements.

“Darling, I’m coming down!” Her voice echoed, Aurelie and Evelyn watching in fear as the pirate queen lifted herself onto the edge. Cullen and Alistair tried to stop her, but she only laughed, giving them a playful wink before launching herself from the stone. Hawke moved swiftly the few feet beneath her, widening his reach to catch her, almost effortlessly. With a loud cheer, the crowd erupted, the other women looking around confused as their respective lovers glanced down.

“Wait… that’s  _cheating_.” Alistair argued. Varric took a moment, looking at Isabella with mild disapproval.

“What? I’m not the type to wait around to be saved and  _you_  know it.” She argued. Hawke’s hearty laugh rang out above the crowd as long as it took for the pair to kiss. Varric clapped his hands together.

“We have a winner! Undefeated, Champion,  _Hawke_!”

“Shows how much  _we_  know.” Evelyn joked, silently to Aurelie. The two laughed, and moved to join in with the celebration. On the battlements, Alistair frowned as he looked to Cullen.

“Why does it feel like  _our_  pride has taken a beating?” The commander asked. The King could only sigh.

“I’ll  _never_  live this down.”


End file.
